


this woman is my destiny

by MaddieandChimney



Series: AU: Pour Some Sugar On Me [7]
Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: F/M, NSFW, Smut, cant' stop writing stripper chimney, send help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:14:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27080269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaddieandChimney/pseuds/MaddieandChimney
Summary: Chimney really enjoys the way Maddie looks in his clothes.
Relationships: Maddie Buckley/Howie "Chimney" Han
Series: AU: Pour Some Sugar On Me [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1898176
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	this woman is my destiny

It’s gone four in the morning by the time he walks through the door of his apartment to be met with the smell of grilled cheese and the sight of his girlfriend standing by the stove in a world of her own. He’s more than thankful for the fact he’d given her a key because he couldn’t imagine anything better to come home to after a long day.

He takes a second to admire the way she’s dancing along to the music playing through her headphones, biting down on his lip as he watches her hips move, admiring just how good she looks. It’s four in the morning, she’s not long come off a twelve-hour shift and it should be illegal to look as amazing as she does right then with her long, curled hair flipped over one shoulder. Her legs uncovered as she stands there in a pair of his boxers and his favourite hoody – tatted and faded from years of wearing it.

It looks better on her than it ever did on him.

Howie lets out a groan as he throws his bag on the floor, biting down on his lip as he just admired her for a second more until he finds himself walking towards her. His movements are careful and slow, although he wants nothing more than to touch her but he’s wary about scaring her considering he can hear her music blasting from where he stands. He makes a mental note to tease her about listening to Taylor Swift at a later point in time because right then, seeing her standing there in _his_ hoody is doing things to him he can’t explain.

There’s a tension in his stomach, his erection growing already before arms wrap around her waist as gently as he possibly can and lips press to the back of her neck. She jumps but only a little as she tears the headphones from her ears, turning herself around in his grip so she can wrap both of her arms around his shoulders, “Mm, you’re home.”

It’s with a grin that he nods his head, his eyes gazing down to admire how she looks. Her cheeks are flushed from the heat of the kitchen and he can tell she’s still riding off the high of a long shift and too much coffee as she beams at him and presses her lips against his chin. “You know, I was going to ask you if you wanted a drawer but I’m thinking you can just borrow my clothes when you’re here.” Which is pretty much every single night but neither of them comment on that out loud. It’s been an amazing ten weeks of knowing her, of dating her, of exploring her body in every single way either of them could possibly think of considering they could barely keep their hands off each other.

Ten whole weeks of falling head over heels for the woman standing in front of him in a way that makes him sound crazy when he tries to explain to himself or to his friends. Somehow, time has both passed them by at lightening speed but also been savoured. He’s memorised every single part of her body, he knows what makes her moan the loudest and how to make her knees feel weak. He knows how to make her smile when she’s had a bad day and the kind of jokes that make her laugh the loudest.

“Oh, really?” Maddie is smirking up at him with a sparkle in her eyes that makes him close what little gap is between them to press his lips to hers, easily sliding his hand from her back to switch the stove off and move the pan away, the food forgotten the second he had laid eyes on her.

“This looks so much better on you…” His hand tugs on the hoody that clings to her breasts before his lips press to her neck, nipping down on the exposed skin when she tilts her head to the side a little. “Fuck, what are you doing to me?” Howie is experienced, more so than she is but no woman has ever had the kind of effect on him that leaves him constantly wanting more. Feeling at one with her was the best kind of high.

Both of them are grinning at each other when her fingers move to the bottom of his top, pulling it over his head. Her favourite thing to do is to run her hands over his body when he gets home from work, as though she reminds herself every single time that it’s her he comes home to at the end of the day regardless of how many women or men he’s danced for over the last few hours. She can touch, they never can and he is hers, so completely hers in every single way possible. It’s barely seconds later that she’s undoing the drawstring of his jogging bottoms, giggling when she pulls them down to reveal he’s wearing nothing beneath. “Commando?”

“Was hoping you’d be awake.” Howie shrugs it off with a smirk on his lips before he takes a step back to admire just how amazing she looks once more. She’s always beautiful but there’s just _something_ about the way she looks right then with no make-up on and wearing something that belongs to him. He’s not possessive in any sense but it still triggers some sort of primal desire he has deep with him, forcing his stomach to tense and a growl to fall from his lips when he pulls her towards the bedroom. “Can eat later.”

His hand is tight in hers up until the second they get into the bedroom and she lets go, easily slipping her hands onto his chest to push him back onto the bed with that hungry look in her eyes. He watches as she slips the boxers off first, scrambling up to a sitting position when her hands hover to the bottom of his hoody to pull it over her head. “N-no, keep it on.” There’s only a second of a questioning glance on her face before she shrugs her shoulders and slides herself onto his lap. There’s another thing he loves about her, her openness and how she never questions the things he doesn’t think he can explain when it comes to what turns him on. And right then, seeing her in that old, tattered, blue hoody he’d never loved so much before, is causing a hard, painful tension deep within him as though he’s ready to burst at any given second.

Howie plants his feet down on the ground as he sits on the edge of the bed and she rests her own legs on either side of his before she presses her lips against his. It’s when her teeth bite down on his bottom lip and tug gently that he lets out a loud, long moan of her name, his hips jutting up into hers. Both his hands curl around the material, fingers gripping tightly before she lifts her hips and takes him in her hand and he’s entirely certain he could stare at the look on her face when she sees just how much he wants her every single time. Her tongue darts out across her lips, their noses brushing together as she presses her forehead to his and slides herself onto him. The sound that falls from his lips shouldn’t be natural, but there he is, already panting as she wraps her arms around his shoulders and digs her nails into the back of his neck.

There’s that small part of him that wants to feel her breasts brushing up against his chest but there’s that even bigger part of him that’s enjoying how she smells like a mixture of both him and herself as he moves to bury his face in the crook of her neck, moving his hips up in rhythm with hers, relishing in the gasping way she says his name when she throws her head back and despite his possessive grip on the hoody, he knows she’s going to need more. One hand letting go to slide between her legs, that swell of pride soaring through him when his name echoes off the walls of his bedroom and her hips move that little quicker, almost frantic. “God, you look so good.” He can’t help but say it out loud when he pulls back just enough to watch her; at the way her head is tilted back, her hair a mess and her cheeks flushed, her lips parted as her chest rises rapidly and he can’t believe he had gone his entire adult life without her. Ten weeks and he already knows that the forty-two years were enough, he’s not planning on wasting another day not loving her in the way she deserves.

“You’re beautiful. The most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” There’s tears in her eyes at her words but she still grins at him when she tilts her head down to press against his forehead once more, her hot breath against his lips as her hands move to tangle through his hair and her movements slow. He just takes the moment to breathe her in, eyes looking into hers, fearful and wary that the tears might fall from them as he moves his other hand to brush against her cheek and tuck some hair behind her ear.

“I love you.” The words come from nowhere and he supposes, for a reason he didn’t know, he’d always assumed he’d be the first to say it. Sometimes, it felt as though she was holding back just a little because of past relationships and experience (and her friends) told her not to move too fast, not to give too much of herself too soon. But there she is, her hips lifting and falling slowly, her breathing evening out as she looks into his eyes with her cheeks redder than they had been seconds before because he’s sure he’s paused too long.

He’s sure the grin on his face is ridiculously goofy when his body catches up with his mind and he doesn’t waste the opportunity to flip them over until her back is on the bed and her legs wrap tightly around his waist, “I love you.” The words are enough to cause her to dig her heels a little too hard into his lower back before he slams his lips up against hers, both of them moaning into each other’s mouths when he picks up the pace once more.

He loves her and he loves her in that hoody and god, he’s going to keep them up until the sun rises making sure she knows just how much. 


End file.
